The Gift. Cecelia Ahern
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you can’t.’ He wasn’t sure of what it was she could or could not do as he had no idea what she was talking about, and he was so preoccupied with his growing paranoia over Gabe’s movements around his office.
He stretched the phone cord to the corner of the room so that he could reach for his coat. In a messy twist of trying to get his coat on while keeping the phone tucked between his ear and shoulder, he dropped the receiver. He fixed his coat before swooping down to retrieve the receiver. Marcia was still talking.
‘So can you at least answer my one question about the venue?’
‘The venue,’ he repeated. His phone rang in his pocket and he covered the speaker to silence the ring tone, wanting nothing more than to answer it.
She was quiet for a moment. ‘Yes. The venue,’ she said, her voice so quiet now he had to strain his ear to hear.
‘Ah, yes, the venue for the …’ He looked at Alison with his best look of alarm and she abandoned her study of Gabe to charge out from his office towards him with a bright yellow Post-it.
‘A-ha!’ Lou exclaimed, plucking it from her hand, saying the words as though clearly reading them. ‘For your dad’s – that would be my dad’s – birthday party. You want a venue for Dad’s birthday party.’
Lou felt a presence behind his back once again.
‘Yes,’ Marcia said, relieved. ‘But I don’t need a venue, we already have two, remember, I told you this? I just need you to help me choose one. Quentin thinks one and I think the other, and Mum just really wants to stay out of it, and –’
‘Can you call my mobile, Marcia, I really have to run. I’m going to be late for a lunch meeting.’
‘No, Lou! Just tell me where –’
‘Look, I’ve got a great venue,’ he interrupted her again, looking at his watch. ‘Dad will love it and everyone will have a great time,’ he rushed her off the phone.
‘I don’t want to introduce somewhere new at this point. You know what Dad’s like. Just a small, intimate family gathering somewhere he feels comfort—’
‘Intimate and comfortable. Got it.’ Lou grabbed a pen from Alison’s fingers and made a note of the party he was entrusting her to start organising. ‘Great. What date are we having it?’
‘On his birthday.’ Marcia’s voice was quieter with each response.
‘Right, his birthday.’ Lou looked up at Alison questioningly, who dove for her diary and began flicking at top speed. ‘I thought we’d want to have it on a weekend so that everybody could really let themselves go. You know, let Uncle Leo really go for it on the dancefloor,’ he smirked.
‘He’s just been diagnosed with prostate cancer.’
‘Not really my point. So what date is the nearest weekend?’ he improvised.
‘Daddy’s birthday falls on a Friday,’ she said, tired now. ‘It’s December twenty-first, Lou. The same as it was last year and every year before that.’
‘December twenty-first, right.’ He looked at Alison accusingly, who wilted for not getting there first. ‘That’s next weekend, Marcia, why have you left it so late?’
‘I haven’t, I told you, everything’s arranged. Both venues are ready to go.’
Lou stopped listening to her response once again, grabbed the diary from Alison and started flicking through it. ‘Ah, no can do, would you believe. That’s the date of the office party, and I really have to be here. We’re having some important clients over. Dad’s party can be on the Saturday, I’ll have to move some things around,’ he thought aloud, ‘but the Saturday could work.’
‘It’s your father’s seventieth, you can’t change the date because of an office party,’ she said disbelievingly. ‘Besides, the music, the food, everything has already been decided on for that date. All we need is to decide which one of the two venues –’
‘Well, cancel all that,’ Lou said, hopping off the corner of the desk and getting ready to hang up. ‘The venue I have in mind does its own catering and music, you won’t have to lift a finger, okay? So that’s all sorted. Great. I’ll put you back on to Alison so she can take all the details.’ He put the phone down on the desk and grabbed his briefcase.
Despite feeling Gabe’s presence behind him, he didn’t turn around. ‘Everything okay, Gabe?’ he asked, lifting files from Alison’s desk and arranging them into his open briefcase.
‘Yep, great. I just thought I’d ride down in the elevator with you, seeing as we’re going the same way.’
‘Oh.’ Lou snapped the case closed, turned and didn’t slow in his walk to the elevator, suddenly afraid that he’d made a big mistake and that he’d now have to show Gabe that his intentions behind getting him a job were not to find a playdate. He pressed the elevator button and, while waiting for the floor numbers to climb up, busied himself with his phone.
‘So you have a sister?’ Gabe asked softly.
‘Yep,’ Lou replied, still texting, feeling like he was back at school and trying to shake off the nerd he’d once been nice to. Of all the times his phone decided not to ring.
‘That’s great.’
‘Mmm.’
‘What was that?’
Gabe had responded so curtly that Lou’s head snapped up.
‘I didn’t hear you,’ Gabe said, like a schoolteacher.
Then, for some unknown reason, guilt overcame Lou and he placed his phone into his pocket. ‘Sorry, Gabe,’ he wiped his brow, ‘it’s been a funny day. I’m not myself today.’
‘Who are you then?’
Lou looked at him with confusion but Gabe just smiled.
‘You were saying about your sister.’
‘I was? Well, she’s just being the usual Marcia.’ Lou sighed. ‘She’s driving me crazy about organising my dad’s seventieth party. Unfortunately it’s on the same day as the office party, which causes some problems, you know. Always a good night here.’ He looked at Gabe and winked. ‘You’ll see what I mean. But I’m taking the whole organisation off her hands now, to give her a break,’ he said.
‘You don’t think she’s enjoying organising it?’ Gabe asked.
Lou looked away. Marcia loved organising the party, she’d been planning it for the past year. In taking it out of her hands he was in fact making it easier on himself. He couldn’t stand the twenty calls a day about cake-tasting and whether or not he’d allow three of their decrepit aunts to stay overnight in his house or if he’d lend a few of his serving spoons for the buffet. Ever since her marriage had ended she’d focused on this party. If she’d given her marriage as much attention as she did the bloody party, she wouldn’t find herself crying to her friends at Curves every day, he thought. Taking this off her hands was a favour for her and a favour for him. Two things accomplished at once. Just what he liked.
‘You will go to your dad’s party, though, won’t you?’ Gabe asked. ‘Your dad turning seventy,’ he whistled. ‘That’s not one you want to miss.’
Irritation and uneasiness settled in on Lou again. Unsure if Gabe was preaching or was just trying to be friendly, he quickly stole a glance at him to judge, but Gabe was just looking through the envelopes on his trolley, figuring out which floor to go to next.
‘Oh, of course I’ll go.’ Lou plastered a fake smile on his face. ‘I’ll drop in for a while, at some stage. That was always the plan.’ Lou’s voice sounded forced. Why the hell was he explaining himself?
Gabe